


A Lot of Fight Left in Me

by Nyxelestia



Series: Nyxie's Fanvids [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (since it's just Allison-centric), F/M, Fanvids, Gen, Ghost Allison, Implied/Referenced Character Death, This fic was written and intended as gen, but it can also be read (and the video watched) as Scallison, season 4, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxelestia/pseuds/Nyxelestia
Summary: As if death were really enough to stop Allison.Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my Ghost!Allison fanvid. Only my second fanvid thus far. I love Allison, and I like to imagine she’s still watching her pack, protecting them in death as she had in life.
> 
> Video was intended as Allison-centric gen, but it can be read as Scallison if you want. :)
> 
> I’ve actually been planning this fanvid for a while, but the DNC’s over-usage of the song kind of turned me off of it, until now. :P
> 
> I’m actually not that happy with the first half, but I like the second half well enough to post it anyway.

~*~

The last person Allison would've expected help from in the afterlife was her mother.

Granted, seeing Mom there in the first place wasn't surprising.

One moment, she lay in Scott's arms with her life bleeding out of her. The next, she was waking up in her mom's old car, on a soulless road her mom was driving them down.

"That turned out well," her mother said. Allison looked around, confused. "I'm dead for less than a year and you go and get yourself killed by an oni!"

"...where are we?" Allison asked, looking around.

"Nowhere. Yet," Mom said, finally looking over.

"I can't-" Allison swallowed. "My friends. I can't leave them-"

"Your friend will just have to do without you," Mom said, in a tone that never tolerated any nonsense or protest.

It was a tone Allison hadn't heard in nearly a year, since the day before her mother died.

It wasn't a tone Allison was going to listen to, anymore - not when her friend's lives were in danger.

"Mom, turn around," she demanded, like she had the night they'd first come into town. Like the Huntress she never really got to be, her voice hard as arrowheads. " _Mom!_ "

Allison suspected it was shock more than anything else that got Mom to oblige.

(Allison never saw the smile on her face.)

The road had been a generic, soulless road going forward, but going back, it was painfully familiar. She didn't even bother demanding that her mother stop, instead following muscle memory, _Nemeton memory_ , and opening the door as they approached the part of the road that ran right by where that psychotic magical tree stump stood.

"You got us into this mess," she snarled at the withered wood. "And you're going to get us out of it."

It was only moments for Allison, moments between dying and making Mom take her back and putting her hand on the Nemeton. Yet when she resurfaced, when she saw her friends again, it was over a month and a half later, Aunt Kate was _alive_ and had Derek in her clutches, and Stiles and Lydia had just stolen money from the Yakuza to try and play hard-ball against Araya Calavera.

Allison wished she'd been there for real, if only to be able to tell them what a terrible idea it was.

_("This might be our worst plan yet," Lydia said, and Allison smiled, because at least someone still had sense. "We're all going to die."_

_"Are you saying that as a banshee?" Stiles asked._

_"I'm saying that as someone who doesn't want to die," Lydia said._

_"Well, can you keep your pessimism to banshee-related predictions?" Stiles snarked. Allison breathed a sigh of relief. Even with the bags under his eyes and the Void still curled around his soul, he was still Stiles, still her friend.)_

Even throwing her entire being into it, every weapon she'd ever had and every skill she'd ever known, Allison could never seem to do more than nudge.

Luckily, when it came down to the people she cared about, that was all it really took.

Just a little nudge, to give Scott and his pack the edge they needed to survive Araya and make it to the church to find Derek.

Just a little nudge, making Derek worry about the kids at the bonfire and being there to save Scott and Liam and Malia from those mercenaries.

Just a little nudge, helping Jordan make the connection between the asylum 'suicides' and go haring off to Eichen House to save Lydia and Stiles.

She could've cried in relief when the deadpool was shut down and Scott fought off the Berserker magic and the pack took down Peter.

Of course, she had her limits. She wished she could've made Derek stay in town, but he needed to heal _away_ from all the bad memories. He'd be back one day - even if he hadn't admitted as much to Braeden on their way out of town, Allison could see it in his eyes, in his heart, in his soul.

She just had to wait.

In the mean time, her pack was safe and only had to worry about schoolwork and the SATs, the ones she never got to take. So she followed her dad, waiting and waiting and waiting, pulling together her strength for just the right moment.

(When Allison met Kate again, she didn't let her aunt get in a word, edgewise. She just sent her to where she belonged, somewhere from which she could _never_ come back.)

She came back home just in time to push that garruda off on her friends' way to Senior Scribe. She traced her initials where Scott wrote them as she felt _, She would've been with us_ ringing through her soul. She grinned when Lydia informed them, "She still is."

Unfortunately, that was also the night she realized there was a new threat in town.

Or rather, a very, very _old_ one.

"Damnit, Marcel," she muttered, and for a moment, her voice echoed with someone else, her non-existent heart vibrated with a memory not her own. Somehow, it was only then that she wondered why she seemed to be the only one who hung around after death to protect the people she loved.

(It was the first time it occurred to her that maybe she _wasn't_ the first one.)

Marcel's favored chimera was too charming, too sweet, too _vulnerable_ \- all of Scott's weaknesses packed into one person, and she _seethed_.

She made sure to seethe by Stiles, and stayed her course as he followed Theo for her, even when Scott started to fall for the chimera's charms.

(She saw Donovan. She wished she could've done more, wished she could save him, because he was a kid stuck in terrible circumstances. He'd just lost his father, and Allison knew what that could do to a person...and how it could be used against a person. She still wasn't sure who did it better, Theo or Gerard. Donovan had a good heart, once, but now there was nothing to be done for it except to stop it, to save Stiles.

When Stiles pulled the pin and the scaffolding came tumbling down, _she nudged_.)

Sometimes, instead of nudging, it was tugging - like tugging Mason's attention, his heart to Liam. Allison threw all her pain at her own death into it, because she knew the power of first love. But she also knew what else lay in store for them, and she was all but old friends with Liam's grief.

She was paying so much attention to Liam, whose soul rang of Scott and Derek and Jackson and every wronged young man Allison had ever known, that she forgot to pay attention to Theo.

Unfortunately, when even her nudges had power, that meant her mistakes did, too.

The first time she cried in the afterlife wasn't at the moment Scott died, but at the realization that it may have been her fault. She was supposed to protect them, she was supposed to protect those who cannot protect themselves-

("How do we approach a situation like this?" Mom demanded, like she'd always demanded.

"C-clinically," Allison said, like she'd long since learned, like the day she saved Scott when his own guilt nearly killed, back when she was still alive. "And unemotionally.")

Scott came so, so close, too close.

Close enough to her.

Down the same, soulless road she found herself in, but this time, when she looked over, it wasn't mom. It was Scott. He was bleeding, he was dying, he was dead, he was waking and looking around - looking at her.

"Are we dead?" Scott asked.

Allison nodded. "Yes."

Scott blinked at the bus, with no one else on it except for them.

"You came back for me?" he asked.

Allison smiled. "I never left."

"...but now you will?" he asked, looking around.

Allison shook her head. "No. I'm not here to take you with me - I'm here to send you back."

"Is that a good idea?" he asked. "I...I failed."

"So did I," Allison said. "I was supposed to protect you."

"I was supposed to protect _you_!" Scott cried out.

Allison pressed her hand against him. "We were supposed to protect each other. And you know what? That's what we'll keep doing."

It was like threading a needle with shaking hands, but Allison wasn't going to let her last act - dead or alive - be a failure, be a mistake.

She pressed her hand against his chest, she _nudged_ , and she grinned when she felt his roar all the way in the afterlife.

She moved, and she kept moving, taking the best aim she could at everyone who sought to hurt her friends. She hugged Meredith as best as she could for dropping herself into that coma to teach Lydia to use her powers - and when the Desert Wolf had Malia by the throat, Allison _nudged_ , carrying Lydia's screams all the way over the abandoned power-station to save Malia. Slowing down the skinwalkers, helping Liam and Scott find the Dread Doctors' lair, making sure her dad was able to get to Scott and Malia in time to stop the Dread Doctors.

(Marcel knew what he was doing. He'd had centuries to practice, and she'd spent those centuries watching and - wait. What? No, that wasn't right, she never even made it to her eighteenth birthday.

But someone else had. Someone else was watching, had always been watching, watching and waiting, and Allison realized there was a reason that even though she never saw anyone else in the afterlife, she never felt alone, either.)

When Sebastian sunk his claws into Scott's mind, he was trying to kill him. But Allison nudged, Allison and not just Allison.

Allison and the day, the night, the lifetime and the instant she and Scott and Stiles were one with the Nemeton, and the world. Allison and her friends, Allison and her family, Allison and her _pack_.

It was Allison's memories that moved, though it wasn't Allison moving them. It wasn't (just) Allison that Sebastian saw.

"Marie-Jeanne?" he whispered, his claws retracting in sheer shock.

That was the only moment Scott needed to throw Sebastian off, to get Liam out of his sight, to _move_. Allison stood her ground, murmuring _I'm proud of us_ as Dad pulled a gun on Gerard where she couldn't - because she was holding onto Sebastian, she was holding onto _not just Sebastian-_

"Mason!" Lydia screamed. " _ **MASON!**_ "

Allison _nudged_ , and Sebastian faltered and Mason stumbled forward, right into the arms of his first love.

Allison _nudged_ when she saw the Desert Wolf had Malia again, but it wasn't just Allison, it was a mother who adopted a little girl without a second thought, it was a little girl who wished she could thank her big sister for taking care of her doll. (It was another mother who was saner in death than she'd ended her life, who wanted her son to live, want him to give his love to others like he'd never be able to give to her again.)

Allison _nudged_ to carry the Skinwalker's message to Kira, to move those cracks and that lightning in the right direction, to make sure Marcel's second-best chimera couldn't escape.

(When Allison heard a stolen heart beating in two worlds, she stepped in, stepped _up_. This time, with the Skinwalkers' help and a hundred angry souls of Marcel's victims helping her, Allison didn't just have to nudge. She reached up, she grabbed Theo, and she pulled him down to where Tara could reach him.)

Beacon Hills would never really be _peaceful_ , but there would still be peace, moments of rest for Allison and respite for her friends, her pack.

When Scott went back to the library, when he traced her initials like Allison had done, she pressed her hand over his, and wondered if he remembered talking to Allison in death.

Whether or not he did, he knew he wasn't alone.

Still, while Allison would never have to apply for college or worry about school or hang out after school again, Scott did, and Stiles, and Lydia, and eventually everybody else. She couldn't let anyone to wallow in her memory.

When Stiles and Lydia walked into the library, and Scott was still looking at her initials, _she nudged_.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think, both of the fanvid and of the fic. Concrit is ♥! :)
> 
> If you like it, please [reblog it](http://nyxelestia.tumblr.com/post/159248422855/nyxelestia-my-second-fanvid-as-if-death-were)! :)


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